


Because It Belonged To You

by ilikeblue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff without Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Renewed friendship, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Soulmates, Soft Jaime Lannister, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trust Issues, Tumblr Prompt, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 03:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeblue/pseuds/ilikeblue
Summary: Jaime Lannister needs a history tutor, and his high school friend Brienne Tarth needs the extra money.  They've both been keeping secrets, and it only takes a trip to the Emergency Room and a lot of pain medicine to make them come clean.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ro_Nordmann for making a banner that is much too nice for this little fluffy story. 
> 
> This was written for a stolen prompt, initially given to Ro_Nordmann by JailynnW (sorry, not sorry for stealing it). Combine hurt/comfort with poorly timed love confession.

Jaime could not believe he was failing History of Westeros. Of all the classes to be flunking, this seemed the most unlikely. After all, his family had played a large role in that history, it wasn’t his fault that he and his professor did not see eye to eye on how that influence had panned out. The records were muddied, he knew that the Kingslayer and the knight they called Goldenhand the Just were the same person. Why didn’t everyone? 

His track coach pulled him aside that afternoon, he needed to fix the grade and fast, or risk losing his scholarship, something he could not allow. That scholarship meant freedom from his family, the ability to choose his own major, decide his own path in life. Never again beholden to Tywin Lannister and his gold lined pockets. 

The doorbell rang, Jaime padded over to answer, the tutor arranged by the athletic advisor right on time. Probably some stuffy stick in the mud. No matter, he wasn’t doing this to make friends, he needed an 80% on the final to pass the course, a goal well within his grasp. Yanking open the door he found himself looking up into dark blue eyes, the kind you remember despite years of absence.

The tall blonde extended her hand, automatically starting to introduce herself before her gaze fixed on his face, brows furrowing and lips pressing flat in consternation. “You’re…”

“Jaime Lannister,” He took her hand in his, a grin spreading across his face, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Your eleventh grade chemistry partner. And you, Brienne Tarth, must be as good at history as you were at science.” A blush he had almost forgotten spread up her neck, causing her eyes to stand out more brightly against the pink background. He was still gripping her hand, mindlessly pumping it up and down as he stared into her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m attending KLU on a fencing scholarship, the advisor asked me if I wanted to help a fellow athlete out, make a few dragons, so…” She pulled her hand away, pushing a stray wisp of white blond hair behind her ear as she stared at a spot on the ground between them. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were attending King’s Landing?” He ushered her inside, gesturing to a table where his books were already spread out. In reality it was no surprise he didn’t know her plans, things had turned awkward between them after he asked her to the junior prom and she bluntly refused. They had never really run in the same circles anyway, the whim of a random seating chart the only reason they had become friends at all. 

“I didn’t start here, I attended a community college for a year, saved my dad some coin. Then I made it to the junior national finals in fencing, and they offered me a scholarship. So…here I am.” She sat pulling out her books, still not meeting his eyes. It grew quiet, both running out of of things to say, a few years apart stretching into an ocean of difference between them. Brienne asked to see his quizzes and tests, reviewing the answers with a frown. “Why would you give this answer about the death of Aerys? Everyone knows it was murder?” 

“It was self defense, an entire city’s worth of defense, millions of innocents saved, and they boil it down to murder.” His voice was rising with irritation, sure she would call his claims stupid, instruct him to give the answer that was expected even if it wasn’t right. Instead she smiled, shaking her head back and forth, the balls of her cheeks pinking with amusement. “I’ve read the research papers too, and there’s a lot of evidence to support what you are saying. But you need to be able to back your claims with facts, or else Dr. Payne will just assume you are defending your family’s honor and mark it wrong. If you are going to give this as your answer, let’s at least cite the references and make a valiant stand.” 

He stared at her face, the expression so open, no judgement, no barb about being the stupidest Lannister thrown his way to make him feel small. Not one member of his family would have reacted like this girl did. They would tell him to give in to the popular opinion, take the easy way out. Why bother vindicating the reputation of some long dead relative who probably was the scoundrel everyone accused him of being? It’s just that Jaime knew somehow he was right, that the man deserved a measure of peace, a pardoning of his sins long overdue. 

Brienne suddenly stood, a look of discomfort tinged with panic crossing her face, as she grabbed her stomach with one hand and the table with the other. “You okay?” Jaime stood to steady her, all the color washing from her already pale face. “Yes, it’s just…I thought it was a muscle cramp but it’s getting worse. I think I might be…” She clamped her hand over her mouth, eyes starting to water as she looked around frantically. Recognizing the universal sign of someone about to hurl, he grabbed her by the arm and flung her into the nearest powder room. She slammed the door behind her, but he could hear the retching through he thin wood. 

After taking what seemed like a long time for someone to empty their stomach it was finally silent, and he knocked timidly on the door. “Brienne… can I do something, call someone?” He cracked the door to find her lying on the floor, knees clenched to her chest. There were tears in her eyes, and he could tell it was taking every bit of her willpower not to break down in sobs. “I think…”she started, gritting her teeth as a wave of pain passed through her. “I may have appendicitis. My brother had it when he was a kid, it looked a lot like this.” She stopped talking and rocked back and forth on her side, riding out another wave of agony. “I need to get to the hospital, but…I don’t think I can stand up. It hurts to straighten.” With that she balled up even tighter, groaning with the effort. 

“Okay, okay…I can drive you. Is your car parked out front?” She nodded, hurting too much to form words. “Alright, just let me get behind you and I can pick you up without moving your legs too much.” At this her head sprung up, daggers in her gaze as she whispered. “That’s hilarious. I feel astonishingly shitty and you’re going to make fun of my size while I’m lying with my head under your toilet?”

“No…no I didn’t mean…” He was genuinely perplexed, why was she looking at him with a hurt expression in her big blue eyes? “I’m strong enough, I can carry you.” With that he bent over and scooped her up, she gave a little gasp as his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders and under her knees, pulling her close to his chest. With gentle steps he carried her outside and opened the door to the car, sliding her onto the backseat without jostling her stomach. 

There was a clump of dirty clothes on the floor mat, and he picked a ratty gray sweatshirt out of the pile, shaking out the grit as he went to tuck it under her head. A familiar stag mascot caught his eye, he lifted it into the light for a better look. PROPERTY OF STORM’S END PREP. TRACK AND FIELD printed on the front, LANNISTER across the shoulders. Brienne was quiet, finally finding a comfortable position on her side. Grinning he leaned down, tucked the soft material around her before whispering in her ear. “Brienne…did you steal my sweatshirt?”


	2. Chapter 2

“You’ve got appendicitis.” The resident gave a broad smile, like he just told her she won the lottery, and Brienne fought the urge to throw the too small, crinkly, plastic coated pillow at him. “I told you that when I checked in.” She grumbled, blushing again when she thought of Jaime carrying her to the receptionist’s desk and then insisting on having a stretcher brought out so she wouldn’t have to stand. One ultrasound, a CT scan and four vials of blood later her fears were confirmed. “I’m gonna need surgery.” She gave an exasperated growl, covering her face with the stiff white sheet. Surgery meant missed practices and skipped classes, and she couldn’t afford either.

Jaime was sitting quietly in the chair by her bed, had been there all afternoon, scrolling through his phone. He’d made one call to cancel plans with his teammates for the night, but otherwise had left her alone, speaking in hushed tones and trying to let her sleep. “Can I call your family for you? Your dad maybe?” Brienne cringed, her father would hit the ceiling when he found out she’d been in the ER all day without telling him, and she really didn’t want to have that conversation right now. Biting her lip she looked at Jaime, he was staring at her with a soft expression, holding out his hand. Reluctantly she handed over her phone. “The security code is my birthday, it’s…”

“I remember.” He cut her off and stood, her frown deepened. _When had she told him her birthday?_ “I’m going to get coffee, I’ll tell your dad what’s going on, you rest.”

“You have a nice boyfriend.” She looked back at the surgical resident with a scowl, about to correct his assumption, when a cramping wave of pain bent her double. She grabbed the pink plastic basin and puked, spilling it over the edges onto her gown. _Why in seven hells do they make these things so small?_ “Let me get you something for that.” He ran to grab a nurse who returned with a couple of syringes, something for nausea and another for pain. By the time Jaime returned, Brienne was feeling better…much better actually. She tentatively stretched her legs out, moaning in relief at finally being able to lie flat again.

_Gods he was beautiful_. She knew she was staring at Jaime as he sat back down, but she really couldn’t help herself. Her thoughts were a little foggy, and if she turned her head too quick things kept moving, just for a beat, before the swirling sensation stopped and her vision snapped back to center. His eyes were the prettiest color she had ever seen, like wet spring grass. She loved his eyes, had she ever told him she loved his eyes?

“What’s that?” He looked up from his phone, eyebrows raised and a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. “Noooothinnnng.” The word stretched, her voice going all gooey, and suddenly her hand was moving—_Why was it moving?_—and her fingers were cording through his hair. “You have the most amazing hair, it’s all shimmery and soft, like a big cat. It gets curly at the ends when you sweat, and then you run your hand through it..” She pulled her fingers out with a flourish, leaving a large swatch standing on end. “And poof it falls right into place.” She giggled—_Oh Gods she giggled_—and fell back against her pillow, pressing a hand over her mouth to keep any more embarrassing words from falling out. “I didn’t mean to…I think I’m..” She was bright red now, face buried in her hands.

Jaime started laughing, smoothing at his hair and whispering “poof” as he sat on the edge of her bed. “Scooch over, that chair is like a rock. ” He bumped her hip with his and she slid to the side of the bed making room for him. “I think,” he leaned over and whispered to her conspiratorially, “that you’re a little high on pain meds, and that maybe this is a good time for me to find out how you got my sweatshirt.” She punched him in the ribs, and he huffed, the laughter starting again, rumbling through her and shaking the bed. _She loved his laugh, too. Seven hells what did she not love about Jaime Lannister?_

She leaned her head on his shoulder. The medicine had started to wear off a little, and she was fully aware of doing it. _When would she get another chance?_ “You left it at my house the last time we studied together. I meant to return it, but after that fiasco with the prom…I just couldn’t.” She sighed, wanting desperately to avoid that topic, the hurt from it fresh years later.

“We’ve done a lot together, your sweatshirt and I.” She closed her eyes, fatigue finally catching up with her now that the pain had dulled. “We went to the fencing championships together, people called me ‘Lannister’ for the first two days.” She smiled at the memory, remembering the feeling of belonging to someone, even if it wasn’t real. “I slept in it. Wore it for my college entrance examinations, and to my first party as a freshman. I threw up on it.” She started chuckling at that, her eyes still closed. “That was when I broke down and washed it.”

“You wore my sweatshirt for almost two years without washing it? Gods why?” She had almost fallen asleep, almost forgotten who she was with and where she was, comfortable against his warmth. Hells, there was no need to lie now, he’d probably never talk to her again after this anyway, the crazy stalker chick walking around with his name on her back. She buried her face against his shoulder and took a deep breath. “Because it smelled…” the rest of the words a muted mumble. 

“What’t that?” She would swear he was smiling, could hear it in his voice but was afraid to look. “Because it smelled like you, and I didn’t want to wash that away.” There, she’d said it, no backing out now. She expected him to move, hand back her phone and retreat. Instead he wiggled his arm around her shoulders and leaned in, brushing a kiss against her temple and, just for an instant, letting his nose linger in her hair. As if, for some reason, he had missed her too.

Brienne was afraid to open her eyes, what if this was a joke? His track friends listening outside the door as she confessed her pathetic attachment to an old sweatshirt, the sole value being that it once belonged to him. She opened her eyes a crack, they were still alone, he was still curled against her side. Gathering her courage she met his eyes, still kind, not worried or embarrassed. If anything there was a hint of relief there, like he had let go of a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding, his whole being relaxed.

“Why did you say no, when I asked you to the prom? I thought you liked me, but you were so angry. I didn’t understand.” He was inches away looking right into her eyes. _He couldn’t be lying, could he?_ No one was that good. “Your sister…” The words had barely escaped her lips when Jaime erupted, air exiting his lungs with a growl, he yanked his arm from around her and sat up quickly, hunching over his knees with his back to her.

“My sweet sister has been spreading lies about me since she was able to talk. I don’t think she even knows what is true anymore. Why in seven hells would you believe anything she said.”

“She told me that it was all a bet. Whoever convinced me to go to the prom and wear a fancy dress and makeup would win the money. Extra if they…you know.” She was looking down at her hands, could still feel the flaming embarrassment of that conversation, how Cersei had looked her up and down and curled her lip in mocking contempt. She had gone straight to Jamie after that and told him no, and in that moment it made perfect sense. Why the glorious, popular Jamie Lannister would ask ugly, tall, awkward Brienne Tarth to the prom. Now she felt unsure.

Turning back he cupped her face, and Brienne felt the spinning sensation again, grabbing hold of his shoulder as an anchor. “Brienne she was always jealous of you. She hated how I laughed with you, how I seemed more relaxed when we were together. I knew you would never judge me, you always defended me. My family didn’t recognize the person I became when I was around you, because I never felt free to be myself with them. There was no bet. I _wanted_ to see you in a dress, would have _paid_ to get you in one, preferably short and blue. One that would finally allow me to see those long, muscled legs and matched your eyes.”

“Why?” Her voice came out raspy, dry tongue sticking to her teeth, making it hard to form words. “I’m too big, and not pretty, and have no shape to speak of and…” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, the contact so gentle. Soft, warm skin melding with hers just for a minute before he pulled back smiling. “You’re Brienne. That’s enough.”

She was staring into those green eyes, mesmerized. “I smell like vomit.” _By the Seven what was wrong with her._

He guffawed, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, you do actually. I’d say it was charming, but…”

With a rush the anesthesiology team descended upon the room, placing more IV’s and getting her to sign forms. Jaime smirked when they asked if her boyfriend was her emergency contact, and he stepped forward to give them his number. As they were rolling her out of the room he yelled. “Two weeks Tarth. I give you two weeks to recover, then I’m taking you out dancing. And I expect a blue dress.”

She laid back smiling, this was the weirdest day of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing please see my other WIP, The Seven Who Are One. Thanks for reading. I love comments! Good or bad, let me know what you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Ro_Nordmann, JailynnW, Sari, and Meriwyn for reading and giving feedback. You ladies are the best.


End file.
